


Stars

by Tierfal



Category: Death Note
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-30
Updated: 2010-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-06 20:37:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tierfal/pseuds/Tierfal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He sees her on the television first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eltea](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Eltea).



> Still more Valentine's Day meme giftfic, the prompt being "stars." :)

He sees her on the television first.

His television is for news, and he mutes the commercials, but he _sees_ her as he glances up from the third readthrough of his notes—aiming for the clock, but he sees _her_.

She is advertising some glossy-pinky-glitter product, but she transcends it somehow, because she internalizes all the earnest vibrancy they're shunting into a package and makes it real.

She winks a blue eye and whispers words he would not have heard if the sound was on, and she blows a kiss and smiles. She is bright, and beautiful, and vividly alive.

She is everything he is not.

It drops right into his lap, and he catches himself thinking that maybe there _is_ Someone up there—no. Of course not. It's just that no one else in the whole building wanted to take this halfwit starlet's contractual problems onto their drastically important shoulders, so it falls to him.

He thinks of Falls, and of falling stars, and he wishes on the latter instead.

She is almost ten minutes late to the lunch he arranges, which means that he has been sitting alone for well over twenty, but he has done some valuable work in reviewing the files. (Spontaneity. The ability to forget about the clock. Foreign. Enchanting.) She wears a strange (stunning) black corset number, and she shoos her manager and pushes bug-eyed sunglasses up into her hair, beaming like a small sun.

She is small. Smaller than he expected.

He stands to greet her, and before he can even put his hand out, she is hugging him tightly and thanking him for taking her case at all, because she knows what people think of her.

Deceptively intelligent, then.

Something they have in common.

She insists on paying, assuring him that she has more money than she honestly knows what to do with, though oh, my _God_, he wouldn't believe _that_ if he'd seen the contents of her closet. She chews on her glossy-pinky-glitter lip and explains that it's the principle of the thing—that if the companies start treating _her_ this way, there's no saying how they'll treat all the others.

She makes too much sense. It shatters the ordered shelves in the silent vault of his mind.

Airily, she remarks that he could always buy her dinner some time, and they could call it even.

This time, the wink is just for him.

Her eyes are shining, and he agrees.


End file.
